


Child of Unova

by ClumsyReaper



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:20:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26014021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClumsyReaper/pseuds/ClumsyReaper
Summary: This story follows Taven, an unusual trainer from Unova, and the winding trail of his life, that more than not places in potentially in the middle of things.Follows the storyline of Pokemon White, once it gets there
Kudos: 3





	1. A Rainy Day Outing

It was raining in Castelia city, and the sound of hurried footsteps would have been drowned out if not for the accompanying splash each made. A small figure wearing a ragged jacket with the hood up, was running as fast as he could, a stuffed messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His were not the only set of footsteps, though as a man in a green apron chased after him, and the small figure could clearly hear these footsteps nearly slipping on the wet ground and falling a bit further behind every time they turned a sudden corner to follow him.

_ Just a bit more _ , thought the smaller figure as he suddenly wheeled down a narrow alleyway, listening intently. He smiled to himself as he heard the large splash followed by cursing, the unmistakable sound of his pursuer losing his footing on the last turn. The small figure gave a burst of speed and turned another corner, and by the time his pursuer had regained his footing and followed after, the small figure was nowhere to be seen. The man cursed and stamped his foot, nearly slipping and falling again in the process.

The boy, meanwhile, was finally slowing down as he reached a somewhat secluded dead end alley. He saw a cloud of vapor rising from the ground and moved over to source; a covered manhole. He looked around and gave three quiet, staccato whistles. It took less than a minute for four Rattata to emerge from a dumpster at the end of the alley.

“Hey,” he said, fishing some food from his bag and offering it to the pokemon, “mind helping me open this, and, you know, closing it behind me?”

After gathering up the food, the Rattata moved to the manhole cover with the boy, and together they managed to heave the cover out of the way. With a parting thanks, the boy descended down the ladder and the Rattata slid the cover back into place behind him. The boy breathed a slight sigh of relief as he began to traverse the walkway that ran along the side of the sewer channel, the air down here was damp, but surprisingly fresh, and the water in the channel was practically clear. 

While most might be surprised by this, the boy expected it. He knew that, due to the painstaking measures Castelia went through in regards to waste management, the sewer did not serve the purpose many would expect. Instead, the Castelia Sewer system was more of a way to access the city’s extensive network of pipes without need for digging or such, the channel down the middle mostly serving to send water from rain and snow back to the sea without risk of the roads becoming rivers. The greatest pollutant was the Grimer that lived in the network of tunnels, consuming what waste and trash they could find, and even they were more a help than anything, simply smelling unpleasant.

The boy knew all this for the same reason he knew the paths and tunnels well enough that he could navigate them without much effort. That reason being that he lived down in Castelia City’s sewers, he had spent most of his life in the maze beneath the city. He knew the various pokemon that lived or came to seek shelter there when weather was unpleasant, strays like himself that he had grown up alongside. 

As such, many pokemon came up to him as he walked, and he gladly shared food from his bag with them as he went. Sharing with them all was even the reason he had taken so much food to begin with, he knew many stray pokemon found it difficult to survive in the busy city, and without him they’d be fighting for thrown out scraps. He saw it as his job to help them, even if he couldn’t do over much.

Before long, once his bag was nearly empty and the various pokemon had gone on their way the boy came across a single door, tucked away in a small secluded part of the tunnel maze. The boy fished the key out of his pocket and opened the door to the small room that was his home. Inside a small, three tiered shelf on one side with a sink tucked into the corner next to it, the other side of the room had several boxes aligned neatly.

The room had likely been one of several “utility closets” tucked around the sewer, containing supplies for maintenance workers, with the sink for their convenience, or perhaps a way of testing repairs or some such, the boy didn’t know. Regardless, the time as a supply closet was before the boy had taken the key after it had been left in the door one day. Now, the shelves held things for living, some extra food, some soap, duct tape, a few rolls of gauze bandage,and other such meager provisions. The boxes were covered by a few layers of newspaper and a tattered blanket, and a makeshift pillow made of more newspaper taped together. 

To many, a sort of nightmare, but to the boy it was home, and here he felt safe. He pulled some bread and such from his bag, setting it on the shelf then a battered water bottle and filled it at the sink, taking a sip before sitting down on the makeshift bed. He grinned wide as he fished from his bag the prize of his haul, several fresh, juicy berries. The taking of which had been what had got him noticed, leading to the chase from earlier. As he began to eat them he decided, though, that it had been worth it.


	2. The Bugman

This had been the boy's life for some time now. He could not remember a time before he had been on his own, before many days were focused on taking food from various shops and vendors in the city. Of course, this, combined with the sheer amount of food he took in order to help feed his fellow strays meant that he was something of a known nuisance, perhaps some even considered him something of a menace.

Of course, word eventually got round to Burgh, the gym leader of Castelia city. Burgh figured, correctly, that a child stealing food is likely one without a home, and decided to solve both issues by finding the child and find someone to care for him. Of course, the issue, it seemed, would be finding the boy. This alone was rather difficult unto itself, as Castelia was a big city, and by all accounts, the boy seemed to have a knack for disappearing after taking what he was after. 

However, Burgh had a simple, yet effective plan to locate where the boy had been staying. He had several pokemon, his own and those of the trainers in his gym and a few others who had been willing, wander the city trying to spot this mysterious child thief. Though even as clever as this plan was, this child seemed difficult to locate, and it took several days until there was any word. 

Finally, a friend of Burgh’s, Vincent was his name, had been led by his pokemon to a place near a sewer entrance more than once after it had been patrolling.He had also found wild and stray pokemon eating various food fresher than trash at the same spots. Anyone could come to the simple, and correct conclusion that the boy seemed to spend plenty of time in the tunnels beneath the streets.

And so Burgh, began now and again to go into the sewer and wander around with just his team, thanking those who had helped him but asking them not to come with him on these new below ground searches. After all, finding a person in the sewer was easier than finding them in the city above, and he didn’t want to scare the poor boy with a huge search party. So Burgh wandered alone with his bug pokemon by his side.

Unlike the search above, the one below only took a short time, perhaps by luck, Burgh found the child on only his second day of searching the tunnels, turning a corner to find him just dismounting a ladder from above. Burgh was perplexed, but decided to save questions for later.

“Why hello there,” the gym leader waved with a friendly smile. The boy started, jumping and turning to face Burgh, taking a nervous step away. 

“Hey, no need to worry little friend, I’m not here to hurt you,” Burgh put his hands up non threateningly, then gestured at the child’s bag, stuffed once again, “That’s a lot of food you’re carrying there, you sure you need all of that?”

“I don’t eat all of it…” the boy stammered, slightly aggressively, taking a step back.

“Oh?” Burgh gave a somewhat confused look, The boy seemed almost upset at the accusation he’d keep all the food for himself, and Burgh decided to proceed delicately, “Well, whatever the case, I came down here because I want to help. If you come with me we can find you a nice home where you never have to take food.”

“This is my home…” the boy said quietly, getting more nervous by the moment “I take the food because nobody gives it. Not to me, and especially not to them..”

Burgh suddenly felt keenly aware of what felt like eyes on his back, but when he turned, all he saw was a rattata scurry through the shadows. He turned back to the boy to try and ask who he was sharing his food with, but found the child running in the opposite direction. Surprised, Burgh called to his Leavanny by his side, who quickly used String Shot on the boy to slow him down, binding him quickly, a situation Burgh had wanted to avoid but was nonetheless needed.

“No!” the boy cried out as he fell over, struggling against the silken threads, “I don’t wanna go!”

Burgh rubbed his head before moving over to the boy, but before he could close the distance, there was suddenly suddenly a cacophony of sound around him, and he found himself swarmed by Zubats and Rattata, and even a Grimer, all seemingly intent on blocking his path. A small group of Rattata moved over to the boy and began gnawing through his binds, and in no time he was free. 

“They need me..” The boy said as he stood, panting, panic still in his voice. He then dumped much of the food from his bag onto the floor of the tunnel, then turned to run with a quick and breathless thanks, seemingly directed at the pokemon. Once he was out of sight, the various frantic pokemon quickly snatched up the food the boy had left and dispersed. Burgh sat, awestruck.

“What an odd child…” he mused, then called to his Leavanny, “come on, we’re going for now.”

It was a few days before Burgh re-entered the sewers, fearing that going back too soon would further upset the peculiar boy. This time, though, the gym leader had a different plan when venturing into the tunnels. This time he and his pokemon carried baskets heaped with food, mostly for pokemon. Some of it had been bought by Burgh himself, some of it had been donated by others, but it was all there for the purpose of being given to any stray pokemon Burgh found. 

In their short interaction, the child had all but said that he felt responsible for taking care of Castelia’s homeless pokemon. Burgh hoped that by assisting he could show the boy he was friendly. And more than that, while he had known there were more than a few stray pokemon in a large city like Castelia, he felt saddened by the sheer number, and by something the boy had said: ‘Nobody gives it. Not to me, and especially not to them’, implying that the boy quite possibly was one of if not the only human who cared enough to help these poor pokemon.

This was further proven pokemon Burgh found were skittish around him at first, keeping their distance and often not coming for the food until he had set it down and walked away. The gym leader figured his first interaction with the boy played a part in that, but could tell that by default most of the pokemon avoided humans in general. So Burgh fed the ones he could find and left some of the extra food in a pile before leaving, only to return and try again the next day.

After about five days, the pokemon began to come up to Burgh when he offered food, and he began to see more who came to get his handouts. Though he was happy they had begun to trust him, Burgh was again saddened by the sheer number, and began to realize exactly why the boy had been stealing so much food. Speaking of, after ten days coming down into the sewers, while sitting and sharing food with pokemon, Burgh heard a familiar voice.

“Why do you keep coming down here, bug man?” The child asked from behind Burgh, “I-I’m not going to leave, if that’s what you want. Even if you are helping, this is still my home.”

“Bug man, hm? Well, I suppose that is accurate, after all.” Burgh chuckled a bit as he turned, he was surprised he hadn’t heard the boy approach, but was glad to see him again, “And no, don’t worry, I understand you don’t want to go, and I don’t want to force you to. But you were right when we met before, these pokemon need help.”

The boy nodded, still keeping his distance, “Most people don’t care about them.” Came the simple response.

“Or know there’s quite so many, I’d say,” Burgh said with a melancholy sigh, “I’m honestly ashamed of myself that I didn’t know about all of them.”

“But you’re helping them, now that you know,” the boy said, taking a step forward, “That’s more than anyone else has done, bug man.”

“Oh? Maybe, but it’s not enough,” Burgh reacted with a nod, “You see, I’m a gym leader, and that means it’s my job to watch over everyone in Castelia, people and pokemon alike.”

“I know. They told me,” the boy said, then looked down somewhat guiltily, “And they told me you were only trying to help before too. I’m sorry how I acted, most people are just mad at me for taking things.”

“They… told you?” Burgh asked incredulously, and had found himself chatting at the pokemon as he fed them, but hearing that the pokemon had somehow informed the boy astounded him, “Are you saying you can… talk with pokemon?”

The boy shook his head, then looked a bit befuddled, trying to find his words, it took him a second to respond.

“Not like how you and I are talking right now, no.” he responded finally, “But I can… understand what they  _ want _ to say better than most people seem able to. Cause like, I don’t know if they said anything about you being whatever a gym leader is but I got that you were nice and want to help.”

“I see. May simply be from living with them for so long, but that's still quite the skill you have,” The gym leader smiled, “So, little friend, now that you know I want to help can I ask for your help?”

“There’s something I could do to help you?” The child stepped closer, head tilted curiously.

“Yes, there is, actually,” Burgh nodded, “firstly, I want to do more to help the pokemon like these here in Castelia, and you know them better than anybody. So I’d like to be able to ask you for ideas and see what you think of my ideas, we can work together to make sure they have all they need. That way you won’t have to take care of them all by yourself.”

The boy went wide eyed for a second, then smiled a bit, Burgh was certain it was the first time he’d seen that.

“But,” the gym leader added with a slightly sterner tone, “you have to promise me not to steal food anymore, okay?”

“If you help them like you say you can, they won’t need me to get them food anymore,” the boy nodded, but then looked a bit nervous, “but what about me, I’ll still need to eat... “

“Well, how about this, little friend,” Burgh said with a smile, “I’ll help you out too, I’ll give you a bit of money every week or so that you can use to buy yourself things, rather than steal them.”

“R-really?” The boy stammered, then nodded, he seemed unused to having people be so nice to him “That’d be very nice of you, bug man, if you mean it.”

“Of course, I can't have my little friend starving, or stealing for that matter,” the gym leader smiled, then chuckled a bit, “And by the way, my name is Burgh. Might I ask yours?”

The boy seemed blank, then looked down in embarrassment.

“I don’t have a name,” he said after a long pause, “Or if I do nobody knows it, I don’t think.”

“Well, that’s simple enough to change,” Burgh smiled, standing up and moving over to the boy, then kneeling and tilting his head as he looked at the child, “How about...Taven?”

“Taven?...Taven.” the boy said it like he was testing it in his mouth, then he nodded and smiled, “Taven. I like it. Thank you bug ma- I mean, Burgh.”

“You’re welcome, Taven,” Burgh chuckled, “now, I’m sure if I ever want to find you, I’ll only need to come down here and the pokemon will tell you, right?”

Taven nodded excitedly and Burgh couldn't help but chuckle.

“Alright, but how about I show you where you can usually find me,” the gym leader smiled, “that way you can come see me if you ever want.”

He held out his hand and Taven somewhat hesitantly took it, and smiled back.


	3. Drenched

After that, Burgh and Taven began to meet up regularly. Sometimes Burgh would come down to the sewers and before he knew it Taven would be there with him, occasionally Taven would find his way to Castelia’s pokemon gym, or to the apartment building that annexed it. Regardless, much was the same, once a week Burgh would give Taven some money, and they would talk about ways to help the stray pokemon of the city. 

Burgh was at first surprised by how mature and logical Taven often was on such topics, sometimes even thinking more thoroughly than Burgh himself. Of course, despite his maturity and insight into the want of pokemon, the boy had flaws in his thinking in not being able to think fully from the human angle, which of course, is where Burgh assisted. Together they came up with the idea to have a number of pokemon feeders, installed around the city, at least as an early measure.

They both agreed more would need to be done, but for a first step, it was phenomenal. The pokemon in the sewers still came up to Taven as he walked through, but it was rarely about food, more often to say hello, or sometimes to thank him and in turn tell him to thank Burgh, and none of them seemed as starving as they had been before. Between that and the money he received regularly to buy his own food with, Taven’s life became a good deal easier. Having time now where he hadn’t before he took to wandering and exploring the above ground of Castelia City. 

The light sensitivity he had developed over years in the sewer meant too long in the sun hurt his eyes so he most often ventured out closer to dusk or when the sky was overcast. But he was fine with that, there tended to be fewer people by a degree, and the lights of the city itself were more interesting than that of the sun regardless. He had been through most every corner of the city, but often while running or otherwise too focused to really appreciate it. Now, though, he had the time to simply walk around and appreciate how awe inspiring his home could be.

On one such walk, though, Taven crossed something that he greatly disliked, drawn to a scene that revolted him by voices in an alleyway. Two men stood, one tall and lanky with black hair striped with white, and one shorter and more stout who was bald but had an odd tattoo on the back of his head, like a blue rapier and lightning bolt on a black and white shield. Before them was an Oshawott, backed into a corner, and looking strangely more attentive than most of its species, but more than that it looked somewhat hurt and it glared at the two as they approached it.

“Hey, hey settle down there,” the tall one with the type of smooth yet slimy voice one might expect from a used car salesman, “We don’t want to keep going like this, so just come with us, and this’ll be over with.”

The Oshawott took a step back and made an oddly deep noise for one of its kind and glared, brandishing its scalchop, which Taven saw seemed to have a slight metallic sheen along its edge. In response the tall man sighed exasperatedly, sticking his hands in his pockets.

“Fine, have it your way,” He said with a snarl, then pulled his leg back and kicked the small creature enough to send it through the air a foot or so, “dumb ass little thing.”

“What’d I tell ya?,” the other man rumbled in a deep voice, “Just cause it don’t look as dopey as other ones don’t mean it’s any smarter. Pokemons is just dumb, ‘specially these ones.”

Taven, who had been hiding behind a garbage can, found himself shaking with rage, and could take it no longer. He slammed his fist on the lid of the can as he came out of hiding.

“Hey!” he shouted at the men with a fury he had never felt before, “Stop hurting him!”

The taller man turned, locking eyes on Taven while the other only looked over his shoulder, then kept watching the Oshawott. The tall man’s demeanor changed as he made a friendly smile.

“Hurt? Oh, no, no, we were just… Training, this little guy,” he said, voice oozing false sincerity, “Some gym leaders also spar with their pokemon to train them you know.”

“Even if that’s true, I heard you talking so I know you’re lying,” Taven said, then narrowed his eyes, “and besides, he’s not ‘your’ pokemon.”

“Oh? Well, aren’t you perceptive,” The tall man sneered, losing his friendly tone, “It could be mine, if I wanted, I bet it’s beat up enough for a pokeball, after all.”

“But Jacobs,” The other man grunted and turned his head, “We ain’t got no more pokeballs. We only had three on hand between us, remember?”

“Shut it, Torg!” the taller man said, bringing his fist down on the other’s head, then looked as Tave’s stern expression remained unchanged, “Look, kid, this is none of your business anyway, so just go home and we’ll get this sorted out.”

“He doesn’t want to go with you,” Taven responded coldly and slowly, And I’m not going to let you take him, or hurt him.”

“Oh Yeah?” Jacobs sneered again, “And what are you going to do abou-”

He was cut off by the lid from the trash can flying into the center of his face after Taven had thrown it. He howled in pain, a hand gripping his nose as a trickle of red came out of it. His free hand grabbed his partner, Torg’s shoulder.

“Get that little piece of shit!” Jacobs yelped, and Torg quickly charged at Taven, who waited for a second to move, seeming frozen in place. Then, suddenly at the last second he grinned and stepped back as he swung and shoved the can itself, causing it to collide with the running shorter man at a height that made him drop and give a yelp. In the chaos, the Oshawott took off, scurrying quickly out of the alleyway. 

“It got away!” Jacobs screamed as he saw it disappear, “Oh, you were already in trouble but now you’re really gonna pay!”

Taven simply smirked and took off running, already planning and plotting how to get away. He had been in this scenario a thousand times, after all, and by now he knew the darker and tighter places of the city like the back of his hand. Not to mention the speed and stamina he had built up. Before long he had, just as always, lost any sound of pursuit and was heading for a sewer entrance,riding the adrenaline and planning to tell Burgh about the two men in the morning.

When he found a suitable entrance, tucked away in a secluded place, he suddenly felt a hand grab his shoulder.

“Hey there you little punk,” Jacbos practically spat as he forcibly turned Taven around to see the two men from before, “Thought you were pretty clever, huh? Guess you didn’t know how helpful people can be when somebody pulls the concerned relative act.”

Taven gasped and tried to scramble away as he was pushed to the ground. With some terror he realized he had nowhere to go, the secluded back alley he had found was a dead end, and there was no way he could get the manhole open with the two here.

“Ohh, yeah, ya should be scared!” Torg spat with a wicked grin, “We’re gonna show ya to never mess with Tea-”

“We can’t go around saying that name yet!” Jacobs hissed at his partner, having cut him off by bringing a fist down on his head again, before turning back to Taven, “Not even to some punk kid we’re going to mess up.”

Both men chuckled grimly and moved toward Taven, who scrambled back, in a complete panic. He’d never been caught before, but he knew whatever the various shopkeepers and clerks would have done would not measure up to whatever these two twisted souls would do. He put his hand up over his face and closed his eyes, when suddenly he heard the sound of rushing water and the two men coughing and sputtering.

He opened his eyes and saw the Oshawott from before standing between him and the two, spraying them both with a consistent Water Gun attack. Taven’s expression changed to a slight laugh as he watched the two men try to use their arms to block the flow, only for his face to fall again as he realized all too quickly the water was neither hurting them nor pushing back, only delaying them. And the Oshawott was clearly not able to keep this up for long.

Inevitably, it happened, The Oshawott stopped spraying, panting hard. But still it brandished its odd scalchop. Taven, inspired, stood up next to it and raised his fists, shaking but looking determined.

“Oh, looky ‘ere, Jacobs,” Torg said as he shook off, “The dumbass pokemon from before came to protect the punk.”

“Oh, excellent,” Jacobs practically snarled, “two birds, one stone.”

Suddenly there was a sound of someone clearing their throat, and everyone turned to see a tan haired man with glasses, standing in a now open door along the side of the alley.

“Hey there,” He said calmly as he took a few steps forward, “Is there some problem here?”

“Problem? Oh, no, sir,” Jacobs said with that friendly grin returning, “Just me and my friend have been looking all over for my nephew and his pokemon here. If you’ll excuse us we’ll just take him home and-”

“Nephew, huh?” the man with glasses interrupted suddenly, “Now, that’s really weird, cause Burgh said that kid was an orphan. And that Burgh was the only one doing anything resembling taking care of him.”

“O-o-OH!” Jacobs stuttered, “Of course, what I  _ meant _ was that-”

Before he could continue, in a flash the man with glasses had unleashed a Ferrothorn from a pokeball, which stamped and stood between the men and Taven and the Oshawott.

“Leave. Now.” The man with glasses said simply, and the two others took off running, the glasses man immediately turned to Taven, “Hey, kid, you okay?”

Taven almost instinctively shrunk away a bit but nodded a bit.

“I’m fine, but they hurt him,” Taven said, gesturing to the Oshawott, who still stood by his side.

“I see, well,I can patch that up,” he said, approaching non threateningly. When both Taven and the Oshawott backed away a bit further he added, “It’s okay,I'm a friend of Burgh’s, my name’s Vincent.”

Taven recalled Burgh having mentioned that name and sighed slightly in relief. When he saw the Oshawott looking at him nervously, he nodded. The small pokemon then allowed Vincent to look him over and even use an odd spray bottle, which seemed to speed up the healing of the Oshawott’s bruises and scrapes until they were barely noticeable. Vincent then looked at Taven.

“You haven't been stealing again, have you?” He asked with an odd look in his eyes, “Cause I’m not sure Burgh would be happy about that.”

“No!” Taven blurted out quickly, “they were hurting him and I tried to stop them and,”

Vincent held up a hand and smiled.

“Alright, I get it. It’s lucky you wound up here, then, saw them threatening you from my apartment.Think you’ll be safe in the sewer? That’s where you live, right?” He said calmly, to which Taven nodded, causing Vincent to call to his Ferrothorn, “Hey, let’s help him get home, huh?”

The Ferrothorn nodded, and together they lifted the nearby manhole cover and Taven waved and thanked them as he and the Oshawott descended the ladder. The two then walked together for a while before Taven collected his thoughts enough to talk.

“Thanks for that back there, that was awesome” Taven spoke to the Oshawott, “if it hadn’t been for you drenching those guys, I don’t think that Vincent guy would have got there in time and I’d be toast.

The Oshawott looked at him and made a slight noise, some part of Taven understood enough that the pokemon was saying he had helped it first.

“Well yeah, cause you needed help.”

Another sound and look.  _ Taven had needed help too. _

“Well, yeah, for sure. That’s why I said thanks. You didn’t have to do that but I really appreciate it.”

There was no response for a moment, then, the Oshawott “spoke” again, this time with only a look, and again Taven understood the gist:  _ what is one of them needed help again? _

“That’s… a good point..” Taven said quietly, then looked at the pokemon and nodded, “How about you and I stick together? That way we can always help each other.”

The Oshawott nodded and smiled. Anyone could have figured it was happy with this idea.

“In that case, I’m Taven, you have a name?” The Oshawott shook his head, to which Taven nodded, “Yeah, didn’t think so, but a friend of mine taught me that that’s real easy to fix. So how about I call you… Drench. Because of how you can, you know, drench people with water?”

The Oshawott thought for a second then nodded excitedly. Taven smiled.

“Well then, Drench, let me show you where home is.”

_____

Minor note frome the author, Vincent is a character made by a friend of mine, UndeadProwess, who has a whole Pokemon Retold series. It’s quite good, and I’ll let it be known I intend for things in this story, when the time comes, to follow a sort of “white version” equivilant to those events.


End file.
